Trust Me, I Won't Hurt You
by butterbeerbaby
Summary: Hermione finds herself falling for Draco. He's toying with her emotions as part of his plan, but will he end up falling for her as well? Rated T to be safe.
1. Chapter 1: The Beginning

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. All credit goes to the wonderful J.K. Rowling.**

**Hello! This is my first story. It's your typical Hermione/Draco love story. I tried my hardest and I'm happy with the result, and I hope you readers feel the same way. Thanks for reading, and enjoy!**

Hermione Granger was just an average-looking girl; bushy mousy brown hair, slightly bucked front teeth, a round face. She didn't pride herself on how she looked. She was more conservative and focused her attention on her studies and keeping up with the shenanigans that her best friends, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, got into.

She was in her fourth year, and it was just after Christmas break. Unlike other students, who spent the break relaxing and gossiping about the ongoing Triwizard Tournament, Hermione spent her break catching up on her reading and making sure she was ready for studies to resume when the break was over. And, indeed, when classes started up again, Hermione kept her spot at the top of her class. Other students sighed in relief when she threw her hand up into the air, because it meant they would be spared from answering another question they didn't know the answer to.

Hermione knew everything there was to know about everything, and she wasn't afraid to flaunt it. For this reason, most boys went after other girls, ones that wouldn't lecture them about Ancient Runes or the seven uses for dragons' blood at any given moment. And the few boys that were interested, Hermione wasn't. When boys ogled her as she flounced through the halls, she kept her eyes straight ahead. She wanted her name to be used in useful conversation, not thrown around is whispered gossip, as in, "Did you hear about Hermione and so-and-so?". No. She wasn't that type of girl.

Although, of course, there was Viktor Krum. He had come to Hogwarts along with the rest of his school, Durmstrang Academy, to participate in the renowned Triwizard Tournament. Not only was he a world-famous Bulgarian Quidditch player, but, of course, we was also chosen to be one of the three, now four, wizards competing in the tournament. He had shown some interest in Hermione, and, truth be told, she did find him mysteriously attractive. He kept to himself, like herself, and he had a dark and brooding look in his eyes. Ron always told her that he was as dumb as a troll, but she didn't believe him. Something about those eyes drew her in.

Now, during a free period, she was making her way through the snow outside towards the Herbology greenhouses to ask Professor Sprout about the recently assigned homework. She was having trouble concentrating on it while curled up on the couch in the Gryffindor common room, because Harry and Ron had been in a heated argument about who-knows-what. She tried to get them to close their mouths and talk like civilized people for even a second, but they wouldn't listen.

"Boys-", she started, but was cut off by a flailing Ron.

"Obviously the keeper is more important than the seeker!" he shrieked, finding the need to thrust his arm into the air to prove his point, almost knocking the quill out of Hermione's hand, "Oof, sorry."

"It's okay, but can you ple-", this time she was interrupted by a red-faced Harry.

"How? Explain to me exactly how you think the _keeper_ can be more important than the _seeker_? The seeker determines the end of the game, just in case you forgot! Not to mention the extra points for catching the Snitch!" he let out in a rush of words, breathless to get the last word.

"Yes, but, without a good keeper, all you get is a Quaffle that goes in over and over and _over, _which makes those extra points good for sticking up your-"

"OKAY!" Hermione cut Ron off before the conversation was carried too far, "Can we just agree that both players are of equal importance and move on with our lives, _please_?" she said, exasperated.

"Oh yeah? And what exactly do _you _know about Quidditch?" Harry scoffed, and he and Ron shared a knowing glance. Hermione glared at him over her scroll, then gathered up her belongings and stood up.

"I love you both, but you are just too much, did you know? I'm going to go ask Professor Sprout about the homework, not that either of you know what that is," she said, raising an eyebrow at the two empty scrolls that sat on the table in front of the boys. They looked sheepish and bade her a farewell wave, and she stepped out of the room and made her way outside.

She was walking towards the greenhouses when she heard a rustle in the trees alongside her path. It was quiet otherwise, except for the occasional owl that flew overhead, and the sound startled her. She dropped her books in the snow, then scrambled to pick them up. A pair of feet jumped down from the tree, then the person they belonged to leaned down and helped her gather her items. She looked up and came face to face with Viktor Krum.

"So sorry. Did not mean to scare." he choked out through his thick accent, staring at her in a way that she couldn't even begin to describe.

"Oh, um, it's no...no problem. Really." she mumbled, blushing. She clutched her books to her chest and stared down at the ground. She kept walking down the path, stealing a quick glance in Viktor's direction.

"Where you heading?" he asked gruffly, falling into step beside her, nervously running a hand through his unruly dark hair.

"Greenhouses. Going to ask Professor Sprout a question..." she trailed off as he looked her in a way that made it clear he wasn't listening to a word she was saying. She hid a smile, biting her lip, then turned her head ahead of herself and kept walking.

"That is...good," he said, then grinned at her, "I see you around?"

"Um, yeah, sure," she stumbled through her words, then smacked herself in the head as soon as he was out of eyesight. She hated herself for being so...not herself around boys. Well, not all boys. Just the ones that mattered.

"So, Granger's got herself a boyfriend, huh?" she looked up and saw a pair of deep blue-gray eyes, hidden underneath a mop of white blond hair that covered Malfoy's bony face. She gasped, for he had come out of absolutely nowhere, then collected herself and glared at him, pure hatred in her eyes.

"What do you want, Malfoy? I do not wish to speak to you," she sniffed, putting a hand of her hip in defiance, then pushed past him, without looking back.

"I want to tell the whole school about your secret love. I'm sure everyone would be thrilled to know. Viktor Krum and Mudblood Granger, who would've thought? Weasley won't be happy, that's for sure." he grinned at her coldly, rubbing his hands together for warmth as he loped beside her, trying to keep up. With motivation, Hermione could walk fast. She spun around, staring at him.

"What are you talking about? Viktor and I are _not _a couple. And Ron would be happy for me." she said, wondering why she was even giving him the satisfaction of talking to him. Before she would've just ignored him. Then again, before he barely ever spoke to her, and never when she wasn't at Harry's side. He couldn't be seen talking to a _mudblood_. Of course not.

"Oh, please, don't flatter yourself, Granger," he scoffed, "Everyone knows Weasley lusts for you. What he sees in you...nobody knows. Beats me." With this malicious note, she sped up, leaving both him and a trail of angry steam behind.

"Hey, come on. You know its true," he said with scorn in his voice, jogging lightly until he was walking beside her again. She whipped her head to the side and sent him a death glare that could petrify.

"What do you want from me, Malfoy? I don't like you, you obviously don't like me. What is it that keeps you going? An evil plan? A plot to get to Harry? Hot air?" He laughed, surprising both her and himself. His eyes lit up after a moment of awkward silence and he smiled sweetly.

"Never thought I would say it, but you're good, Granger. See you around, Mudblood," with that, he strutted off, leaving Hermione alone with herself, her books, and a whole lot of confusion.

**There's the first chapter. I don't know how I feel about this story just yet. Let me know what you think? Second chapter will be soon! Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2: A Realization

**Heys! Thanks to anyone who read the first chapter. I really enjoy writing this. This chapter will be from both Draco's and Hermione's POV. Enjoy!**

_Draco's POV_

"What keeps you going? An evil plan? A plot to get to Harry? Hot air?"

The second choice stung. Not because it wasn't true, but because it was. It was a simple plan in perspective, really. Boy acts excessively flirtatious around girl, girl falls in love with boy, girl's best friend (in this case, Potter) insults boy, girl defends boy and reveals secret love, girl's best friend forced to be friends with boy and a real friendship sprouts, girl's best friend tells boy all his secrets...and the rest was easy. And with his hidden charm, aristocratic good looks, and exceptional acting skills, not to mention modesty, the plan would be easily carried out.

The third option, though, made him laugh, which surprised him, and, judging by the look in her wide eyes, it surprised Hermione as well. An awkward silence followed, until he slowly parted his lips and smiled, showing his rows of perfect white teeth, and said,

"Never thought I would say it, but you're good, Granger. See you around, Mudblood," with these words, Hermione's eyebrows knotted in confusion, and he grinned to himself as he turned and loped down the path, leaving her standing behind him. He could feel her gaze on his back, but he told himself not to look back. Draco managed to get back into the school, and straight into the Slytherin common room, slamming the portrait door behind him as he entered. He walked straight past Crabbe and Goyle sitting on the couches and staring at their homework blankly, and headed into his dorm. Crabbe and Goyle, seeking an opportunity to leave their barely-touched work for another time, or until they could force some first year Gryffindor to do it, lifted themselves off of the couch with some difficulty.

"What's up, Draco?" they lumbered after him as he sat on his four poster bed, kicked off his dripping shoes, leaving them to form a puddle on the floor, and leaned back with his hands behind his head. They wrapped their meaty hands around the black bed posts, looking at him expectantly.

"Oh, nothing. Just doing a little _favor _for father," he sent the boys a sly wink, a smug grin on his face as he flopped his head down on his pillow and stared up at the bare ceiling.

"Does it have anything to do with-" Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other, then looked at Draco's closed eyes and whispered gruffly, "him?" The boys were too afraid to mention his real name, especially at school were anyone could interfere, but they assumed Draco would know what they meant.

"Dunno what you're talking about," Draco mumbled without moving an inch. Crabbe and Goyle shrugged, taking the hint to leave, then staggered out of the room, bumping into each other's wide bodies as they both tried to squeeze through the thin doorframe at once.

Draco groaned at his friends' stupidity, then regained his relaxed position and drifted off into a quick nap. In half-consciousness, Hermione's confused but smug face swam around in his head, her soft pink, slightly parted lips in a smirk, her chocolate-brown eyes open wide and her tiny, upturned nose crinkled slightly as she furrowed her eyebrows, and shot awake. He rolled of the giant, completely blue bed, dazed and confused, pulled on a new pair of shoes that weren't dripping wet, and blindly made his way to the dungeons for Double-Potions, a giant question mark in his head.

_Hermione's POV_

Forgetting all about her question, Hermione shook her head to clear her thoughts, and headed back towards the school.

_What just happened?_ she thought to herself, thinking over her encounters with both Viktor and Malfoy. Especially Malfoy. She replayed the conversation in her head, but no matter how much she thought it over, it seemed just as unusual every time, if not more. She blindly made her way back to the Gryffindor common room, so deep in her thoughts that she barely noticed when she bumped into a second-year and sent his books flying everywhere.

"So sorry," she mumbled, leaving him grumbling under his breath and picking the books up himself, then stepped through the Fat Lady's portrait where Ron and Harry were still sitting in front of the fireplace, eyes set on the parchment in front of them and tapping their quills on their chins. They didn't notice her until she flopped down on the couch in front of them, resting her head on her hand and still thinking.

"What did Professor Sprout tell you?" Ron asked, waving a hand over her glassy eyes.

"What? Oh, that. Yes, she wasn't there," she made up as she came out of her thoughts, finally remembering the question that had fallen out of her head.

"Strange," Harry said, "Must've been talking to another professor or something," he shrugged, then flipped through a couple pages of his Potions textbook. Scribbling something down, he turned back to look at her, noticing her unusual silence, "Something wrong?"

"No, I just had a really strange encounter with Vi- Malfoy," she changed her mind, stealing a nervous glance in Ron's direction as she decided not to mention Viktor's name.

"Malfoy?" he scoffed, not noticing her stare, "What did he want?"

"That's exactly the thing," she shook her head, his grin showing up in her head, the chiseled jaw line, the deep gray eyes set in his pale white skin, "I have absolutely no idea. He just came out of nowhere and started _talking _to me like I was some old friend. It was nonsense," she didn't dare tell them about the laugh or the last thing he had said to her before he left, and she would never reveal what she had just revealed to herself: she had enjoyed the conversation.

"Well, there's Malfoy for you," Harry snarled, clutching his quill just a little harder, "Always up to something. Don't let him get into your head."

_Too late. _Hermione thought, then packed up her books that were still lying on the plush red couch, telling the boys that they better hurry up if they wanted to get to class on time.

As they walked out through the portrait and towards the dungeons for their Double-Potions lesson, the only thing in Hermione's head _was _Draco. And she couldn't get him out.

**A little disappointed that this chapter was so short. It's just a filler chapter I think, kind of a foreshadowing? I'm not sure. I'll try to make the next chapter a little longer. I also have a couple ideas for some other stories. Reviews? Thanks in advance!**


	3. Chapter 3: A Couple Encounters

**Hey there. Time for Chapter Three! I'm so excited for this one. I've had this idea in my head for the past couple hours, and I am **_**so **_**ready to put it on paper. Hopefully this chapter will be a LOT longer than the last one. That one was a disappointment. Plus, I only have four reviews for this story. Think we can get some more for this chapter? I really like to read what you think of my writing. It always helps! Thanks in advance if you do review.**

**Right then, on to the story. (:**

Draco sat at the ebony desk covered by cauldrons, bubbling flasks, and the random toads eye rolling around on the slick surface. His friend Blaise Zabini sat as his side, randomly flipping through a worn textbook, making odd conversation with Draco as they waited for their Potions lesson to begin. Every few seconds, Draco's eyes drifted towards the door, waiting for Hermione to walk through. When she finally did flounce through the doorway, surrounded on either side by Ron and Harry and her head thrown back in laughter, Draco immediately straightened up, fixing his robes and lifting a hand to slick back his platinum hair. His eyes narrowed as his gaze followed Hermione to where she sat next to Harry, giggling, her cheeks flushed and her hair bouncing as wildly as ever. Blaise raised an eyebrow at Draco's obvious primping, then turned his head to where Draco was staring. He grinned, and nudged Draco in the side.

"Granger, eh? Mudblood, Gryffindor, a Potter puppet?" Blaise smirked, and Draco frowned, bringing his gaze to linger on the cauldron in front of him, pretending to be fascinated by the bubbling, puss-colored liquid on the inside.

"It's not what you think," Draco mumbled out of the corner of his mouth, fingering the cracks on the surface of their desk and stealing quick glances in Hermione's direction.

"Really? Seems to me _someone _is infatuated with a certain Hermione Granger," Blaise chuckled, and Draco turned to glare at him coldly.

"I am NOT." he hissed, but something on the inside nagged at his thoughts.

_Maybe you are? _the little voice in his head whispered.

_No. It's simply part of the plan. _he forcefully tried to convince herself, until Blaise spoke again and snapped him out of his reverence.

"Hey, mate, it's alright," Blaise said, looking at Hermione who was currently smacking Ron on the shoulder and laughing joyously, "She may be a Mudblood, but she's hot." Draco laughed coldly, but the voice inside his head thought otherwise. He quickly shut it up and whispered frantically,

"Granger? Hot? You must've hit your head on something, Blaise," Draco grinned, but the smile disappeared as he inconspicuously looked at her one more time. He had to admit, if you ignored the wild hair that framed her head, she had a pretty face. The light pink lips, the big, brown eyes, the way she looked when she laughed-

_NO! Shut up! SHUT UP! _he screamed at himself, clenching his fists and looking away.

"Maybe I have, mate, maybe I have not-" Blaise was cut off by the slam of the door as Professor Snape rushed into the room, his long robes swishing around his ankles as usual. He stood at the front of the room and swept his gaze across the class, silently daring anyone to make a noise. When he was sure he had everyone's attention, he snapped his wand on the desk in front of him and started to speak,

"We are going to be doing a partner project for the next week or two," he drawled coldly, then proceeded to whip open a piece of parchment on his desk and read it over, "Listen closely for your pairing...Potter and Parkinson, Weasley and Zabini, Finnigan and Crabbe, Longbottom and Goyle, Patil and MacMillian, Bones and Smith," he then paused, and proceeded to look at Draco, blinking once, then turned back to his scroll, "Malfoy and Granger. Turn to page 74 in your books, follow the directions, try not to mess it up. Go." he finished, flicking the scroll closed, then watched, hands folded, as the class scurried to get with their partners and get started.

"Weasley. Of course," Blaise groaned, gathering up his books and slowly making his way towards the table where Ron was trying not to seen, hunched over his book. He stopped at the last second, turned to Draco, and winked maliciously, "Have fun with Granger." then proceeded to laugh as Draco grimaced and subtly flipped him the bird under the table. Blaise seemed to have a little extra bounce in his step as he walked away.

"Hello, ferret," Hermione stated, no emotion in her voice, as she slid into the chair Blaise had just occupied, "It would figure that we would be paired together, now wouldn't it?"

"I'm not sure I know what you mean, Granger," Draco said, averting his gaze and twiddling his thumbs.

"Cut the crap, Malfoy. I _mean _that little conversation we just had about, oh, I don't know, twenty minutes ago. What _was _that?" she hissed under her breath, quickly glancing in Harry and Ron's directions to make sure they weren't listening in.

"A conversation? What else would it be?" Draco shrugged, then turned away and grinned to himself.

"Right. But _why_ were you being nice to me? I thought we hated each other," she looked genuinely curious and not angry now, and Draco couldn't help but smile as he looked at her.

"Look. It's Potter I hate. Not you. You're not that bad," he bit his lip, and Hermione momentarily felt her heart flutter. She was just starting to sink into his blue gray eyes, when he cleared his throat and turned to his book, which was already on the right page. Scanning the list of ingredients, he gave himself a mental high-five for being so smooth and so _so _good, then turned back to Hermione, who was staring off into space, eyes crinkled in confusion and a slight pout on her lips.

"Hey, Granger. We should probably get started." he said, and started to gather the items they needed. Hermione looked at him, then murmured her agreement, sifting through the ingredients he dropped onto their desk.

"Okay, you get started by chopping this up, and I'll juice these," she said, handing him some roots and taking a couple toad's eyes for herself. They worked in an awkward silence for a couple minutes, until Hermione turned suddenly to Draco, startling him and causing him to drop his knife with a clatter.

"Did you mean what you said?" she asked, her eyes searching his face for any sign of lying, but Draco recognized the look in her eyes and managed to keep his face blank, with just a hint of a smile causing him to curl up his upper lip.

"Yeah, of course I did. I'm a Malfoy. Malfoy's don't lie." he grinned at her once more, but his heart hurt from the lie he had just told right there. By god, what was happening to him? He never felt pity. Was he becoming..._soft?_

"Huh," Hermione whispered, then swept a lock of hair away from her eyes nervously and sent Draco a sweet smile, "Well, I think we might be done. Should we all Professor Snape over to check our work?" she asked, sniffing the purple, swirling substance in their cauldron.

"Sure," Draco sighed, then watched as Hermione raised her hand, looking in Snape's direction expectantly. He looked at her slightly upturned nose, the curl of her lips, the soft look in her previously hard eyes. The plan seemed to be working, but he wasn't sure if he was happy about it.

* * *

Hermione scuttled through the murky, dim dungeon hallways, the only sound reverberating off of the brick walls being the patter of her feet on the cobblestones, and the occasional spider scuttling somewhere in a corner. It was Sunday night, right after dinner, and Hermione was desperate to get to the Potions room to ask Professor Snape about the essay due the next morning before curfew. Turning a corner, she sped straight into someone walking the opposite direction. With an _oof_, she and the boy she had bumped into fell backwards, scraping their hands against the coarse stone floors. Grumbling to herself, Hermione brought herself to her feet, not even looking in the direction of the person still rolling on the floor, wiped her hands off on her jeans, and kept walking.

"Oi, Granger! Not even an apology?" Hermione heard the voice she unfortunately recognized, and she turned to see Draco Malfoy lifting himself off the ground, "Walk out of the bathroom and get trampled by a girl. It would figure," he said, then turned to look at her, eyebrows raised in anticipation for the apology he thought he deserved. Hermione wasn't looking at the eyebrows, though. Her gaze went more south, for Draco's shirt was unbuttoned, and all she could see was a pair of alabaster abs, the finest she had ever seen. She heard herself take a small intake of breath, then quickly shook her head and snapped out of her thoughts as Draco followed her gaze. He looked back at her and grinned mischievously.

"Like what you see, Granger?" he asked, cocking his head to the side and locking his eyes on hers.

"Oh, yeah, I've seen your bare chest," Hermione scoffed, "Kill me now, and I could die happy," she retorted sarcastically, but Draco just chuckled. She was trying to be tough, but he could tell by the way that she kept looking down that she really was awestruck. He knew he had nice abs, and it was just a plus to the plan that he happened to bump into her when she could see them.

_To the plan? Please, _the voice in his head cackled, _You like her. _The voice was taunting, and Draco's eyes softened as he looked at Hermione, who had her arms crossed and was looking at him, waiting for him to say something.

_No I don't. _he told himself, but with less force this time. Stepping closer to the girl, he suddenly cracked a grin, laughing to himself.

"What?" Hermione asked, confused. Her eyes widened as Draco stepped even closer, their bodies practically touching. Looking down at her, he whispered with a laugh in his voice,

"You want to touch them?" With this, Hermione let out a shocked gasp and sprang backwards, holding up her hands and slowly taking tentative steps behind her,

"Whoa, whoa, _whoa_! What? Why in the name of Merlin would I _ever _want to do that?" she whispered through clenched teeth, but Draco just laughed again and stepped closer.

"Come on. You know you want to," he teased, taking one more step in her direction.

"No, _thank you. _" she gaped at him in disbelief, "I do _not _want to touch your non-existent abs!"

"Non-existent?" he gasped jokingly, "Obviously you've never heard of a six pack."

"Oh, I have, and _that's _not it." she smirked, turning to walk away.

"What's not it?"

"That." Hermione repeated, pointing at his abdomen. Seizing the opportunity, Draco grabbed her finger before she could react, and used it to trace his abs, his pale white, long fingers wrapped around her short, darker ones. She was oddly silent, holding her breath, and when he let go, she dropped her hand slowly and shuddered visibly. She still didn't say a word, and Draco looked at her and smirked.

"And?" he prodded.

"I lied. _Now _I could die happy." she rolled her eyes, but as she turned and started down the hallway, she smiled to herself and squealed on the inside. She then halted to a stop, horrified with herself, and turned on her heels, looking at Draco with her eyes narrowed, "I can't believe you did that."

"I can't believe you went along with it," he shrugged in response, holding out his hands.

"You know I could report you for rape," she smirked, and tried to walk away. He caught up with her in no time, and she whipped around when he grabbed her shoulder. Her gaze followed his hand, and he quickly dropped it, cheeks flushed.

"Technically, your finger was on _my _abs," he grinned nervously, rubbing his shoulder.

"Well you made me by grabbing my finger! It was _your _fault we made sexual contact!" she practically screamed, grinning, but her face fell and she looked at the floor in embarrassment as she realized what she had said. Draco just laughed in response.

"_That _was sexual contact?" he chuckled, shaking his head, "You poor, lonely girl!"

"Hey!" she laughed, smacking his arm playfully. She then grabbed her arm with her hand, massaging it in embarrassment, as she blushed, a crimson color spreading across her cheeks. She lowered her face and looked up at Draco, her wide brown eyes huge and inviting. Against his will, he grinned, then backed up.

"I got to get back to my dorm," he said, and she nodded in response, "I'll see you later...Hermione."

As soon as he was gone, Hermione sighed and leaned against the wall.

_What was wrong with her?_

As soon as Draco got into his dorm, he flopped onto his bed and thought about the look Hermione gave him right before he left, and he smiled to himself.

_What was wrong with him?_

**Oh man, I love Dramione. I also like where this is going, and this chapter was slightly longer than the last one. That's good, I guess. I like this chapter. My favorite so far, but seeing as its only the third, that's not saying much. **

**Review, pretty please! (:**


	4. Chapter 4: Butterbeer and Beginnings

**Hi! Thanks for all the great reviews. They really brighten my day. 3**

**Wow, that was cheesy. **

**WELL. This chapter...I didn't really have it planned it out so I decided to just make it up as I go along and I hope it works.**

**Read and PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! Thanks. (:**

Hermione woke, eyes still scrunched tight, legs and fists curled close to her body, to a relentless tapping noise. She groaned, and burrowed herself under the covers, squeezing her pillow around her head, one end covering each ear, trying to drown out the noise. Even through the thick feathers, she could still hear the _tap tap tap _that refused to stop. She decided to just ignore it, and closed her eyes again, sinking into the thick mattress. She could see the dreams starting to hazily appear in her head, and she was falling, finally falling again. And the tapping noise seemed to have stopped. She smiled unknowingly in that state between reality and sleep, but it quickly turned into a frown as the tapping noise drove into her skull yet again.

"Bloody hell, make it stop," Lavender Brown called out from her bed across the room, whipping a pillow with all her strength, which wasn't much, in the general direction of the noise. It landed with a soft plop in the middle of the floor, and Lavender rolled over, her soft snores ringing out again. Hermione punched her pillow in frustration, then yawned loudly, stretching out her arms and legs before slipping off the bed and looking around for the source of the horrid tapping. She struck the jackpot when she noticed a beautiful black owl standing on the window ledge, framed by the pink early-morning sky. He had one talon extended, tapping the glass in a robotic rhythm, and his other foot had a small piece of parchment strapped tightly to it. Hermione stepped tentatively toward the glass, trying to think of who would be writing her so early.

Any of her friends?

No, they were either sleeping in the very room she was standing in, or another room in the Gryffindor tower.

Hagrid? No, the owl was too...sophisticated. Sleek. It was much too well-groomed to be handled by such a lovingly messy man that Hagrid was.

One of the teachers?

Possibly, but she would've recognized most of their owls. Only a few teachers had never sent her an owl, but it was much too early for a teacher to be sending her one now. They would've waited until a later time, when they wouldn't be disturbing her peace. This reminded her that it was an inhumane time to be awake, and, yawning, she checked her watch, then grumbled angrily to herself when she saw it was only five o'clock.

There was still one option, of course. But...no. She didn't want to think of him. She had done enough of that in the last couple of days. As much as she was disgusted with herself by the mere thought of it, she couldn't get his stupid, smug, incredibly handsome face out of his head. It was like he was permanently glued to her brain, and, as much as she hated to admit it, he seemed to belong there. Without Draco Malfoy in her head, it seemed almost empty. She wanted to slap herself for being so obsessive over a boy she had punched out of her hatred for him in the previous year. He was still that cockroach he was last year, but something had changed. Something had clicked inside her when he popped out of nowhere that one day by the greenhouses, and she was forced to look inside his deep, beautifully silver eyes...

Snapped out of her reverie by another exasperated tap on the glass, Hermione rushed forward, her socked feet muffled on the floor as to not wake her roommates, and unlocked the window. She opened it softly, letting a burst of cold winter air into the room. Shivering, she untied the note from the outstretched foot of the owl, who blinked at her with it's giant, glassy eyes, waiting. She murmured a quick thank you, then quickly closed the window behind it as it swooped into the sky, streaming through clouds and disappearing from sight. She glanced at the thin envelope in her hands. In swirling cursive she didn't recognize, her name was plainly on the front, nothing accompanying it. Settling back under her covers, her legs crossed and elbows resting on her knees, Hermione quickly opened the stark white envelope, pulling out a small piece of paper with only a few words scribbled neatly onto it.

_Meet me at The Three Broomsticks today at 3 o'clock. Bring no one. -DM_

She didn't need to be as extremely clever as she was to know whose initials were added onto the bottom of the note. Eyebrows furrowed, she read over the letter again, soaking in each word individually and deciding that she wasn't going crazy. Malfoy had indeed asked her to meet him in Hogsmeade in ten hours. She wondered why, remembering all their previous encounters. She thought he liked her, or at least he sure acted like he did. She liked him, that was for sure, but she hated herself for it and her friends would never agree to it if they knew of their crooked relationship. Harry, Ron, and Ginny, the three people she could turn to for anything in the world, would be crazy if they were to _accept _the fact that Hermione was infatuated with the enemy. It surprised her that Malfoy was so open about it; it was as if he didn't care what others thought about the two of them, which was definitely out of character for him. She smelled something fishy, but pushed it out of her head immediately.

_I'm going to make the best of this_, she thought to herself fiercely. Sealing the letter back into the envelope and quietly sliding it under her mattress, she lowered herself off the bed and shuffled towards the bathroom, her trunk hovering in the air behind her. She settled in front of the mirror, examining her face from every angle. Sighing, she closed the door behind her, opened her trunk full of clothing and various cosmetic products she only used for special occasions, and got to work.

* * *

Draco Malfoy sat at a corner table at the back of The Three Broomsticks, which was dimly lighted and practically empty except for the couple snogging in the opposite corner. Draco ignored them with disgust, and rapped his hands on the table impatiently. He glanced at his watch once more, as he had done thirty times in the past ten minutes, and saw that it was already a quarter past five. Settling back into the sticky vinyl of the booth with his arms crossed over his chest, he watched the doorway, forehead creased and eyes boring through each customer that walked through the door. This wasn't the Hermione Granger he knew, the one that was always the first to walk into the classroom, who had never been late to anything a day in her life. He knew it was only because it was _him _she was meeting, but it was still uncharacteristic and was making him grumble under his breath.

This meeting was most certainly part of the plan, yet his heart panged each time someone walked through the door that didn't have Hermione's signature bushy hair. He felt like a date that had been stood up, and he wanted to mentally slap himself for feeling like that. Why should he care if she didn't come? This was only for the gain of the plan, and there were certainly many more ways he could get her to fall in love with him. Only now, when she wasn't coming, did he feel slightly guilty for dragging her and her feelings and her _heart _into a battle between him and Potter. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't even notice Hermione walk through the door, looking around for him like a lost puppy for its owner. She finally spotted him in the corner, alone, with a pained expression on his face and his eyes lost in their own little world. She quickly patted down her hair one more time, adjusted her jacket so it hung straight, and made her way to the back table. She stood to the side, not wanting to sit down until he noticed her.

"I don't want anything to order yet, thanks," he huffed, not fully looking at her, until his head snapped back and he _really _saw her. He momentarily felt his breath leave his chest as he eyed her up and down, not even believing his own eyes, "_Hermione?_" he gasped, and she nodded, confirming his thoughts. She looked different. She actually looked...hot. Her tight jacket hugged her tiny hips, which were covered by a pair of skinny jeans he hadn't even knew she owned. Her face looked angelic compared to every other day, covered in a golden blush, her eyes-which looked wider than ever-were framed by pitch-black eyelashes that swooped dramatically, and her lips were glossed in a light pink color that made her slightly bucked teeth look a normal size. Her hair looked straightened and glossy, and she hesitantly bit her lip as she stood uncomfortably, kneading her hands.

"Can I sit down?" she asked, bringing her hands behind her back and looking at the booth in embarrassment, avoiding Draco's gaze at all costs.

"Oh, yes, yes of course," he still gaped, awestruck, then gulped and jumped out of the booth, motioning his hands toward the seat across from him in a signal that she took to mean, "sit down".

"Thanks," she mumbled, still averting her eyes, and Draco nodded in response, then said something about getting them Butterbeers. She murmured in agreement, and he slowly stood up, still soaking in the sight of her, until he walked towards the bar and out of sight.

He pushed his way through the crowded room until making it to the front bar, where Madame Rosmerta was busily making drinks for all the customers, who were shouting out orders rudely and loudly. She yelled at them to quiet down, and Draco took a seat at one of the stools, patiently waiting until she came to him. That gave him some time to think about what he had just seen. He thought about the way Hermione looked. He turned back to see where she was sitting, quietly staring at her own hands, and saw the way her hair now caught the light, her lips looking plump and inviting. He turned back and let his gaze fall over Madame Rosmerta but let his thoughts fall elsewhere. He grinned to himself, as he knew she had only made herself up as she did to impress him, but the smile faltered as he realized it had worked. He had known that she was a pretty girl before, if not entirely attractive, but now she was a bombshell. It was a wonder what some new clothes and a bit of makeup could do to a girl, and to the guy she did it for.

"Get you anything, Mr. Malfoy?" Madame Rosmerta finally asked, leaning over the bar and batting her eyelashes flirtatiously at the boy.

"Two Butterbeers, please, Ms. Rosmerta," he smiled, and he swore he saw her swoon a little as she rushed to get his order filled. He chuckled to himself slightly at the effect he had over women, but stopped short as he realized Granger, of all people, had just had that effect on him. He had prided himself on being the boy girls couldn't get out of their heads, but now that little Hermione was prying her way into his.

"Here you are," Madame Rosmerta handed him his Butterbeers with a wink, and he thanked her before turning and making his way back over to where he was sitting before, muttering an incantation so that path was cleared before him. He hastily set the drinks down on the table, and Hermione looked up at him expectantly. He was momentarily lost in her chocolate-brown eyes, and she looked a little confused.

"Well?" she said, and his eyebrows furrowed.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked, genuinely confused, and internally longing to stare at her some more in comfortable silence. He needed some time to soak in her new look, after all, as he told himself.

"Why am I here?" she didn't meet his gaze, perfectly content to focus her attention on her drink, which she was now stirring with a little too much force.

"Can't two friends just normally go and get some Butterbeers together?" he cracked a grin as she looked up, surprised, "I see you come here with Potty and Weasel all the time," she didn't seem to notice the fact that he was aware of her schedule, and her eyes were filled with questions when she finally looked back at him.

"Friends?" her voice faltered slightly at this word, "Since when are we friends, Malfoy?" her voice now seemed a little stronger, with a hint of scorn, and she continued, "I know there must be more to this. Never before have you called us _friends_. Never before have you been interested in my company. In fact, you didn't _want _my company _whatsoever." _Draco tried to speak, but she cut him off when she saw his mouth open, "Now, I don't know why you wanted to meet me here, or why we had that certain encounter in the dungeons, but I certainly know its not because we're _friends. _We're not, we never where, and the way this is going, I don't think we'll ever be. Now, tell me, I _beg _of you, why you're doing this to me?"

"Doing what to you?" he murmured, but her only response was a deep blush that spread across her cheeks, "If you mean the fact you had to pretty yourself up for me, that was your choice, not mine?" her head snapped back up, and she narrowed her eyes, practically hissing at him.

"That was for my personal gain, not yours," she knew she was lying to him and to herself, but he didn't need to know that. But it seemed he did, but the half-grin that cracked onto his face, "And wipe that smug grin off your face," she snapped, folding her arms over her chest tightly and frowning at him.

"You want to know the truth?" he asked, and she nodded firmly, staring him down. He adjusted his collar nervously, and cleared his throat, "Well, I-"

But he was cut off by Madam Rosmerta, who took time off from the busy bar to shuffle her way over to her favorite customer and ask him if he needed anything extra. She glared at Hermione with jealousy as he answered with a polite "no thank you", and then shuffled back to where she now had an angry crowd waiting. Hermione still looked at him with that expectant gleam in her eye, and straightened up a little when he cleared his throat yet again.

"I like you, Hermione," he managed to whisper, and she perked up, "I want to be friends with you," at the mention of the word friends, her face fell and her eyes narrowed again. Only she could know of the disappointment that clouded her previously hopeful mind, but he could tell that she was somewhat let down by the spark that flew out of her eyes. He cleared his throat again, slightly disappointed in himself, and he searched her face, longing for something more than _friends. _Only for the plan, of course, he tried to convince himself, but faltered when she sighed, taking a sip of her drink.

_Baby steps, Draco, _he told himself, following her lead and gulping down some of the sweet Butterbeer, _Baby steps._

**Review! Pretty please! I would love you forever.**

**I am more proud of this chapter than any of the other ones so far. I seem to have a problem with writing long chapters, though. Oh, well. **


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